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| Another post |
| 07.31.05 (11:29 am) [edit] |
Good afternoon Boys and Girls!Well, I have something to say, so here's a post tBlog, oh tBlog, we've all loved thee so. A bunch of hack writers, we needed to know, whether our words and thoughts could flourish and grow into daily expressions worthy of others' eyes or should be better disposed of or at the least, be revised. So here, fairly often, we'd take up our "pen" in hopes that we'd stumble into "brilliance" again... A phrase nicely crafted or a word fit so tight that one sentence in twenty might be seen as just right So that - plus the friendships that develop and bloom - through our comments and tmails that helps bust through life's gloom We support one another and smile when we see that someone we care about responds thoughtfully So, leaving is hard, and I'm not sure I should, but lately the bad stuff is outweighing the good. Perhaps it's all me, and my impatience is showing but the weird crap going on is a roadblock to growing. So for just one more week, I'll be part of the clan and then I'll depart for a new bloggers' land There's myspace, and blogspot and blogomonster and more I'll choose something, I guess ...and I won't slam the door. Love ya. Be good to everyone! |
| Kupov Wins! |
| 07.29.05 (2:44 pm) [edit] |
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Good afternoon Boys and Girls! I'm tired. I'm not enamored by what's going on here on tBlog. The little kids and the spammers have taken over - which is fine, except the kids aren't mature enough yet to even understand how silly what they write is, and trying to point out flawed logic to them is pointless, since they're so enamored with the idea of being able to publish their thoughts, and then talk about it on tBlurt, (Both, fine things by the way - except I don't have the time or patience to abide it much of it.) THe spammer dude or woman, (nutcase1nutcase1nutcase1 ...) obviously has figured out a way to make money by all these absurd posts, or they like to mentally masturbate; but regardless, there doesn't seem to be anything being done about it...though perhaps there is nothing to BE done about it. I'm going to take a few days off to decide whether I too will leave this place for another Blog site without as many annoying goof-balls. I post most of my stuff on a few other sites anyway, so I guess it won't be a big deal, but I'll tell you I have enjoyed tBlog, even with all the snafus and down times, but I'm just not enjoying it now. Those of you who are my friends, know who you are, and if I leave I'll consult most of you as to where you're thinking of going, since I know I'm not alone in this frustration. I'll leave tBlog to the 14 year olds and spammers. Be good to everyone. |
| Meaningless drivel |
| 07.27.05 (3:16 am) [edit] |
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Good Morning Boys and Girls. surrogate here. Wow. Just went outside for a sec. It's 5:45 a.m. here, and it's cold! I mean, yipes! We haven't been as hot as much of the country, but it' been over 90 degrees most days for the past three weeks, and the evenings have gotten down to about 75 or so.. (You Canadians, do your own conversions, being a thoughtless American, I can never remember the formula...) But this morning, It can't be much over 50 something... hang on... let's see if Yahoo will help out... Yep. 55 right now. What a wonderful shock. I've been working outside every day for the past six weeks, so I have this wonderful farmer-tan thing going. Just got out of the shower and caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror as I was toweling off. If I blurred my eyes a little to avoid seeing the the hideous definitions of my far from perfect body, I look ready to hop onto center court at Wimbledon for the finals in the "Old and Ugly" division... Sure had on my natural Tennis Whites. (Just using that term dates me, I know.) From about six inches above my knees down to about two inches above my ankles, neck-up (including what ever-so-gradually becomes a more perfect skull-cap, encumbered by less and less hair yearly), and my arms - are as dark as I can ever remember them being. -This in stark contrast to the portions of my body that are protected from the sun, which remain deathly white. Quite the picture! Anyway... Why I should wreck your day with mental images so disgusting you won't be able to concentrate on anything important, or sleep tonight for that matter, I have no idea - and I apologize. All this to say... It's cold outside, or at least chilly, which is a novel thing I'll appreciate all day! Sunscreen be damned! Sorry. I needed to post SOMETHING, and I'm not quite awake enough to write about anything meaningful. Maybe it'll be a two-post day if I get the chance to get back to it later. Any idea what's going on with old tBlog? I'm baffled. Be good to everyone. |
| ...or just wait for the tone. |
| 07.25.05 (4:01 am) [edit] |
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Good morning Boys and Girls. Woke up this morning to a voice-mail from Jesus: "Surrogate you old goof. How are ya? Sorry to call so late. I'll be by your place sometime during the week. Wondered if you want to have lunch or coffee or something... Listen, I read your blog and some of the comments you've been leaving and getting on your comments page. Sounds like you've upset some people! So what's new? Don't worry about it. Just keep going. I wrote something yesterday that I'll post when I get a chance to copy it onto the computer. Sure wish I could just post the napkins or scraps of paper I write on initially, since when I sit down to copy things, I always edit them - water them down some - so I don't come of as impatient or intolerant. I've got to go. Hear the horn? The bus is leaving in two minutes. This driver is cool. He's from Alabama and he never quits laughing. See ya. Hey, don't do anything different. Just keep writing about this damn nationalistic crap. Somebody's bound to understand it. Talk to you later. Hey, one more thing, remind people that they are loved too. Byeeeee!" So, that was nice, but the phone was right next to my bed. I must have slept soundly. Remind people that they are loved? Okay. Um. You are loved. Whew. I love easy ones! Be good to everyone. (Hey. Like the new clock? I stole it from preceptlady without her permission. By the way, thanks preceptlady!) |
| Frankestein Lives! |
| 07.24.05 (5:53 am) [edit] |
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Good morning Boys and Girls! surrogate here. Rainy Sunday morning, and, AHHHH; just realized we're out of coffee. Next week is a bit of a watershed week for me. Aside from a couple of changes that I'm not sure about but that will take place nevertheless, I'm thinking about taking a plunge into the realm of activist politics, an abyss I've avoided for damn near twenty-five years. Most of you who read here regularly know I'm a pig-headed liberal on most things, and proud of my snout, but other than writing what I think here, I never do much of anything. (Okay, so I did drive a few people to the polls last November and passed out a few leaflets in a losing cause, but let's face it, there just aren't that many people who give a damn about what a forty-eight year old unsuccessful guy has to say.) Therefore, I am thinking about... DOING SOMETHING. One little problem. Tiny. Itsy-bitsy. I have no idea what to do. Maybe paint FIRE ROVE on my forehead and dance around naked in the middle of downtown? Perhaps the point would be lost. Maybe paint the side of building with the words, "BRING OUR TROOPS HOME NOW." That night be nice, except then people would want to argue about us not having "finished the job." (Not realizing that, like Viet Nam, it's not a job "WE" can finish.) Maybe pass out free "Get Osama - Interrogate him, listen to what he has to say, learn from it, and then lock his ass away till he's dead." t-shirts. I kinda like that one. See, I want to do SOMETHING that might have an impact on the war on terror. And since I'm one of those who believe that it wasn't Frankenstein's Monster's fault he was the way he was, but mostly Dr. Frankenstein's himself, for creating the monster by careless meddling with things he didn't understand, that we have an obligation to both deal with the real threat as we understand it, but also to figure out what sort of food gives nourishment to such monsters and then do what we can to starve it, by not making such food available any more. Is that metaphor lost on anyone? Let me be clearer. We owe our citizens, and the citizens of the world our level best to figure out WHY these terrorists are upset with us. It's the only thing that will ever "win" the war on terror. It's not to coddle them, or "give in" to them, but to understand what pisses them off so much and then see if there are ways that we can change our behavior to help them get over being so friggen' willing to blow themselves up as long as it kills off a bunch of us in the process. And it centers around us trying to build our own national security around the fact that we need oil to keep our economy humming. It's time to change that, which we are perfectly capapble of doing if we'd simply decide to do it. Only then will we be able to effect policies that are not threatening to other societies. Simple logic. The war on terror will never be won with weapons. It will not be won with a bang. It will be won, when and if it is won....with a fizzle. Be good to everyone. |
| Chromium in your tea? Sugar? |
| 07.21.05 (4:34 pm) [edit] |
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Evening Boys and Girls. surrogate here. A walk. Looking over my shoulder to check a noise I swore I'd heard a half dozen times already during the mile or so I'd been making my way through this bit of scrub, once again I saw nothing. There was a sound though. I was sure of that. Almost like deer antlers rubbing against bark. Where I was though, I knew it was pretty unlikely that any deer at all, let alone a buck with big enough antlers to make that sort of sound, would be anywhere in the vicinity. It was a field though! There were tons of weeds, and any number of sparse bushy mini-trees scattered throughout the fifty-acre parcel, that because of it's long thin shape, was almost two miles from one end to the other. But it was fenced - though that was to keep people out - as opposed to keeping wildlife, like those deer I was wondering about, in. Just ten years ago, this had been a bustling area, full of activity and people every single day. The series of buildings that used to be the focus of the complex was still there too, though where I was walking was a ways back from that part of the property. Out here, it was said, was where they used to dump the paint. Out here, was where the on-site readings were taken that showed that the lead and heavy metal content of the soil, and subsequently, any water that was underneath the dirt - of which there was plenty, (AND that water fed directly into the river not a quarter mile away) - was so contaminated that this had become slated as a Superfund clean-up site just three days after the second set of readings; the "confirmation readings" were taken. Back then, this place had been a client of mine. A factory specializing in refurbishing auto-carrier train cars; they'd gotten themselves in hot water a couple of years earlier and had hired me as their liaison to deal with the state, and if it came to it, the Feds. I did my job well. Seventy-five thousand dollars in initial fines ended up being reduced to just ten percent of that, with my assurances, on behalf of the company, that a substantial portion of the money NOT being paid in the form of fines would be spent on health and safety improvements throughout the facility. I took pictures; wrote procedures, did training, brought in some other consultants, made dozens of phone calls to various agencies and companies to get recommendations on how best to stem the tide of what had seemed to be a business gone crazy with lack of concern for their workers, the community they operated in, and the public at large. As I said, I did my job well. In fact, I remember loving getting that particular check when, after three months, I felt I'd really helped them accomplish something wonderful. A new attitude from the owners, a good relationship with the Union, and a committee made up of both management and hourly employees that was well staffed and ready to usher in a brand new day at the place. My wife and I took off for a special weekend after that job was done, and damn it, we deserved it. About three years later I got a call from a contact of mine with the State. He didn't pull any punches and had no desire to shoot the bull even a little. He asked if I'd gotten wind of what was going on at this company. I said no, I had no idea. I hadn't talked to anyone there in a couple of years since they'd hired an in-house consultant, a move I'd suggested and was happy they'd made. Tests of the water downstream from the place, a few hundred yards away showed lead levels two-hundred times higher than normal, and twenty times higher than they'd ever been in that location. I remember my stomach turning as I listened. Turns out, the sand-blasted old paint removed from the cars was a tad too expensive to get rid of properly, (oh, who's kidding who, it was REALLY expensive) so they'd been simply been spreading it around out here with a back-hoe. In three years over four thousand gallons of contaminated sand and lead dust had been simply applied like fertilizer over about a twenty acre portion of the property. Nice. They were shut down, and the Feds did come in, but to my knowledge, not one damn thing happened to anyone at all who was responsible, and, though the the place was tagged for clean-up, evidently the funding was never quite available. So, the whole place sits vacant, probably never again to be safely used for any worthwhile purpose. Another one of thousands of ugly slices of what may always look like doom, sprinkled throughout urban rust-belt America. Sure hope they made a lot of money. I remember the owners wore their religion on their sleeves; good Christians, they. I do know that this is hardly a rare occurrence, on the other hand, I still don't know what that noise was. Be good to everyone. |
| $2.00 for a 411 call? Hell with that. |
| 07.20.05 (3:54 am) [edit] |
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Update on yesterday's post: His name was Daryl and his funeral was today. Good morning Boys and Girls! Jesus reporting today from, well, I don't think I'll say. Last week I was passing through near where surrogate lives and he drove over so we could have lunch. He was in a good mood but feeling a bit too smug about a couple of things and I tried to get him to simmer down a little - told him he was being a bit strident. Hope that's been noticeable here, though I haven't had time to read it since I've been fairly busy doing what I do. After lunch, surrogate hands me a present. Wrapped even! He told me to open it after we'd parted company. I shrugged and thanked him, though I didn't know what could possibly be giving me that I'd really need or want. But, you don't want to seem unappreciative, you know? It was a cell phone. surrogate gave me a cell phone. Two problems. One - I don't want a cell phone, and two - did I mention, I DON'T WANT A CELL PHONE. Anyway. I now have a cell phone, and the worse part about it is, as you might guess, surrogate knows the number. He's called me three times this week. Now I like surrogate. We're friends, and he means a lot to me, but I don't want surrogate calling for my advice on every little thing any more than I want anyone else using me as a crutch in their lives. I lived a good life. I'm lucky enough to be walking around today as part of an outreach project, (which seems to be working in fits and starts, though way too many of the people we're getting though to are hopping on-board ships captained by people who completely skew what I'm all about) but I'll be snookered if I'm going to let one of my friends start treating me like I'm his private therapist who he can call every two seconds when he has a moral dilemma or needs a friend to talk to. surrogate can take responsibility for his own life just like everyone else. This is really annoying. Thankfully, at least with the cell phone, I can simply turn it off when I don't want to be bothered. Oh. I asked surrogate how the bill gets paid for this thing. He tells me that "I" should mail the check to the cell phone company by the tenth, and to watch my minutes, and that I have free nights and weekends, but that my nights don't start till 9:00 p.m., and that I don't have free roaming (No roaming? Me?), and that the minutes start the second you've dialed the number and that.... I'm tossing the thing. Love each other, love your enemies, love Dad. Period. (it's my new shortened "Madison Avenue" approach. It's all I ever wanted anyway, and I said it often enough, but they want you to do thirty minutes, or two hours... you gotta fill! Of course, then they start making the metaphors "THE" message, and pretty soon, aw never mind.) Be good to everyone! |
| Just a little mistake... |
| 07.18.05 (4:05 am) [edit] |
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Good morning Boys and Girls surrogate here. Midnight Friday night/Saturday morning. Meijers (a regional discount grocer/department store akin to a super Kmart) is having their Harry Potter new book release party and the store is fairly crowded with children dragging their parents to the line to buy the book and have cake and punch. Many are dressed up in costume. One a.m. Four kids are messing around in the parking lot. Two are riding (sitting) on the trunk as the driver and another passenger travel the length of the store, just having what seems some innocent fun. Something happens. One of the two boys on the back of the car, which didn't seem to be going very fast at all, (and probably was traveling toward a driveway into an apartment complex at the end of the parking lot where one of the boys lived) loses his purchase on the trunk and tumbles off, turning as he slips. He falls in a heap on the ground, a bucket of fried chicken and a two-liter bottle of soda go flying, and his head smacks the ground, taking the brunt of the impact. 911. Blood flows, his breathing is labored and erratic, his limbs twitch in spasm as his friends try to keep him breathing. 911. The ambulance takes far too long to get there. The police even longer. The boy's mother, scared and shaken, but not hysterical, arrives on site before the ambulance. She desperately wants to lift his head to place something padded between it and the ground. She is warned off moving him, just in case. A fire truck and ambulance finally arrive and survey the situation. And survey. They must have known it wasn't much use, as they moved deliberately, and without any sense of hurry. The police, well, one policeman is trying to sort out what happened. Fully another twenty minutes later another arrives, and then a third. The second cop on the scene is in far too jovial a mood to my mind. The ambulance, now with the boy inside, leaves and the cops begin to ask questions that seems to point at their desire for the driver to have done something deliberate to have caused the situation. Speeding; accelerating quickly, neither of which seemed to happen. Some of the other paramedics who have remained on the scene, mop blood from the asphalt and use anti-bacterial lotion on their skin where it may have come in contact with the boy's blood, despite their gloves. I suppose they have to find someone to blame. He was seventeen. What keeps going through my mind is; would he have made it had the ambulance and police gotten there in a reasonably timely manner? This was a busy street. Surely there was at least one policeman somewhere in the vicinity. Who knows. They weren't doing anything all that crazy. It wasn't like they were on the road pulling this stunt. They were just being mildly dumb. A small lapse. Be good to everyone. |
| Phoning it in. |
| 07.17.05 (4:05 pm) [edit] |
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Good afternoon Boys and Girls, surrogate here. I can't write about what i was planning on writing about. My heart's not in it, or maybe it's in it too much. Maybe tomorrow. Just pray for the Mom of a 17 year old boy who left to go out Friday night for what appeared to be some innocent fun with his friends, and didn't make it home. Had fun seeing a friend this weekend. I think a move is in the offing for me, again, though I'm not sure how soon or even exactly where to. I know it sounds like I'm Mr. Roam-about, but you'll have to believe me when I tell you it's not what I planned for my life, especially at this stage of it - but we do what we have to do, ...um... doesn't us? Doth we? Be it as it beeeee'z? Perhaps the next turn of events is the one I've been looking toward without even realizing it! (This my friends, is called rationalizing beyond all reason.) I'm three days removed from the news, even to the extent that I haven't checked out the little news wire thingy on the left side of my own blog, and yet, I don't feel all that uninformed. I'm pretty sure that those who do good have kept up their fight and those who do evil - especially those who do it unwittingly - are still stumbling through their uncaring existence as well. I'm thinking of using this blog as a whorish vehicle to sell a couple of products. If I didn't think it would cost me what minute amount of credibility I strive to have here, I'd do it for sure, since I figure how much worse could it be than the frigging porn and RX link-posts that clutter up the "recent blogs" all day - every day on our wonderful tBlog. Well, this is about as pointless a post as I can remember putting up here, and perhaps I shouldn't post it at all, and instead hit the old delete key. But hey, maybe we can send some good thoughts and prayers toward the Mom of that poor kid. If only one of you'all does it, I suppose it can't have been a waste. Be good to everyone. Check this out if you like.. http://takeittokarl.blogspot.... |
| Fun with Computers 101 |
| 07.14.05 (4:48 am) [edit] |
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Good morning Boys and Girls! surrogate here. Well now, I've received three different email petitions in support of asking Bush to fire Karl Rove. I signed them all. Is that wrong? I'm not sure it would matter if George fired him; not today anyway. He'd still be able to manage the show from the locker room, - same way a baseball manager can after he's been tossed from the game, if he feels like it. Hell, I can see it now. George sitting at his desk in the Oval Office, looking at his monitor, signed on to Yahoo messenger - no, AIM, of course! "I can see you Karl! - but you're so small? And jerky too." George waves at the little box on the monitor. Karl is pissed. "George. Did you sign those directives I sent over yesterday?" "I don't know." now George is making monkey faces at the little web cam. "Can you see me Karl?" "George. Cut that shit out. Goddammit, when I send you something, you're to sign it, you understand me? Where's Cheney?" "I think he's over at the Capitol presiding over the Senate!" George is proud of this response, since he learned that this is one of the most important duties of a Vice-President during a tutored civics lesson the week before. "George, the Senate isn't in session. Go find him." "Yes Karl." "NOW!" "Yes Karl..." "Hey guess what Karl?" "What?" "The little guy inside the computer just told me, I've got mail!" Be good to everyone!
Hope this formats... a friend (Bob) just sent me this... A woman walks into a curio shop in San Francisco. Within a couple of blocks, the group of rats behind her grows to over a hundred, and they begin squealing. She starts to trot towards the Bay. She takes a nervous look around and sees that the rats now number in the thousands, maybe in the millions, and they are all squealing and coming towards her faster and faster. Terrified, she runs to the edge of the Bay and throws the Bronze Rat as far out into the Bay as she can. Amazingly, the millions of rats all jump into the Bay after it, and are all drowned. The woman hurries back to the curio shop. "Aha," says the owner, "I'll bet you have come back for the story." "Actually no," says the woman. "I came backto see if you have a Bronze Republican." |
| Flying Fortunes |
| 07.12.05 (9:19 pm) [edit] |
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Good evenings Boys and Girls, ...and now for something completely different: Seems there was a guy walking along a busy two-lane road one day - obviously looking for something. There was a sidewalk, but he chose to walk along the side of the road itself, perhaps looking for something that had come out of his hand while driving this same route. Cars flew by and some honked their horns, and a truck nearly mowed him down, it being wider than the cars and not being able to move across the double yellow even a little since oncoming traffic was busy too. The man didn't even look up when the truck's driver honked and then yelled at the man as he did his best to avoid making the pedestrian so much tire goo. The truck driver was upset enough at the episode that he pulled off the road a couple of hundred yards ahead into the parking lot of a small machine shop, set the brakes and purposefully walked back toward the man, who still seemed oblivious to his surroundings, so intent was his search for whatever it was he was looking for. "Hey buddy. What the hell do you think you're doing? I almost killed you a few seconds ago." "Oh," said the man, briefly glancing up. "I'm sorry. I'm looking for my fortune." "Your fortune? What are you talking about? You looking for change?" The truck driver reached into his pocket to see if he had any coins he could give the man. "No, no," said the man, now with his eyes back along the ground. "It flew out of my car a little while ago and I HAVE to find it." Now the truck driver scratched his head and knew he'd found himself a loony-toons. "Your fortune flew out of your car window?" "Oh well. I suppose it doesn't matter said the man. I know it by heart anyway, but it changed my life, and I was really hoping to find it." "What the hell are you talking about?" asked the truck driver as they both walked, on the sidewalk now, back toward the lot where the truck, and as it turned out, the other man's car was parked as well. "Well, I went our for lunch with a friend of mine a few months ago to one of those all-you-can-eat Chinese buffets and when she brought the check, the waitress had placed two fortune cookies on the little tray with the bill." "Yeah, they always do that." said the truck driver. "Right, and I always pick one up and then trade with whoever I'm with... supposed to be a good luck thing. So we did that, but this time, my fortune was so profound that it immediately changed my life, and has made the last few months the best time I've ever had, and I'd been keeping it in the ashtray of my car since I don't smoke. I'll bet I've picked it up and read it a hundred times or more, but I had to charge my cell phone, and the lighter's in part of the ashtray assembly - and my passenger window was open and when I went to plug in the charger, the wind caught the little fortune, it flew right out... just back there. Sure wish I'd found it. "Well, for goodness sake; what was the fortune?" asked the truck driver. The man smiled, embarrassed. "You'll think it's stupid... but I swear, it hit me." "Well Jeez.. tell me already." "It read... 'When you judge people, you don't have time to love them.'" The truck driver stared at the other man for a few seconds, then furrowed his brow and turned away. "You're right. It's stupid." said the truck driver as he headed over to his truck. "Maybe. But for me, it was exactly what I needed to read, and... well, like I said, it changed my life." The man said, now talking to the back of the departing truck driver. "Good for you." said the truck driver, shaking his head and opening the door, and climbing up into his rig. "Friggen' idiot." he mumbled, and released the brake. Be good to everyone. |
| Good things come in small brown packages |
| 07.11.05 (4:29 pm) [edit] |
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Hey Boys and Girls! surrogate here with a transcript from a conversation between... well, what is says on the micro-cassette is KR & GW. I don't know who that is, but it's the strangest conversation. I don't have any means to go from analog to digital here at the house so I just transcribed it. Came in a brown envelope. The top line is scratched out as well as most of the rest of the return address, but I could make out "..sylvania Ave, Wash... C." No zip. "...so what you're saying is.." "What I'm saying is, that if this gets out, we're f*cked, Geor.. I mean, Mr. President." "Oh Karl, quit worrying. We'll get through this. Want a cookie? Laura made tollhouse!...BUT she used those little itsy bitsy chips? I love those. You like tho..." "MR. PRESIDENT? Don't you remember what we did? We frigging GAVE that bitch's name to Novak. And HE actually used it ON THE AIR! I figured he'd do a little research and see where we were trying to go with this thing and do his job, like Limbaugh and Hannady and Armstrong and all the rest. Friggen moron." "I'm not sure I remember all the particulars. What were we trying to do? "We were trying to smear her husband, the f*ck. Remember he was opposed to the war and was making noise all over town?" "That could have been anybody. Lots of people are opposed to this war, and now look what you've got me doing... more crap every day. I'm getting tired of this Karl. I'm the one who's going to go down in history as the punk ass fool who killed all these people. YOU TOLD me this was what we were supposed to do!" "Not just me, sir." "Yeah yeah.. you, the Wolf-meister, Rummy and Dick of course." "Of course sir. Let's not go down that road again. You know as well as I do that it was all part of the deal. Dick gets his contracts for his shop, your Dad and the Saudis get their piece, We end up with a shitload of oil and bases over there... and YOU got elected... Let's not forget that. "And RE-ELECTED... hehehe, by a mandate!" "The term is 'landslide" sir, and you didn't win by one, and therefor you don't really have a mandate. We're just acting as though you do... you know what they say, sir." "Yep." (unison voices) "Never let them think you're anything but IN CHARGE." "Right sir." "So what are you going to do Karl?" "I don't know. You know what would really help right now" Something to diffuse the situation... something for those media scum to sink their teeth into.... hmmm." "Not another attack?" "No sir. Not anoth... Well, what if it wasn't on American Soil? Excuse me sir... I've got some calls to make. You study that vocabulary list I gave you last week." "Aw... Geez Karl. Do I have to?" "Yes sir, you do." "I'm telling Dick on you. You're a slave driver Karl." "Yes sir." (shuffling paper...) "When am I ever going to have to use any of this stuff in my future. I told you guys I hate reading... What's a filbuttster again?" "Filibuster, sir." "What's that thing on your tie Karl? It's too small to be a tie-clip... Look at it! It's not a tie-clip. Why i think it's a little tiny little itsy bitsy hidden michroph.......... (crunching sound... then silence) Be good to everyone! |
| the sun is up, the sky is blue, it's beautiful, and so are you... |
| 07.10.05 (6:33 am) [edit] |
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Good morning Boys and Girls! surrogate here. It's Sunday and here in the Midwest, the sky is blue, the birds are singing and it really too beautiful for words, and what keeps running through my head is how lucky we are to have a place as wonderful as this earth to call home... Okay, okay, so not everywhere on earth is as nice as it is here right now and there are plenty of places that are not nearly as nice as this one is right this instant. So shoot me. I was only trying to enjoy the morning. Jeez... I know... In London they're cleaning up from the horrors of the awful attack... In Florida, people who are just rebuilding their homes from last years hurricanes are worried that they'll be hit again later today... In Africa, people are starving for no good reason... In Iraq, thousands of civilians with no ax to grind are under fire and dying because of our misguided world view... Also in Iraq, we ask our soldiers to be exposed to depleted plutonium left over from the first Gulf War on a daily basis without telling them or protecting them from it. We ask them to fight against a growing number of people from all over the world who look upon this conflict as a wonderful training ground for doing future battle (sic. terror) against us... We ask our fighting men and women to do for twelve hundred a month what the employees of contractor buddies of administration officials are paid ten to twenty times as much to do - and with far better equipment... We allow a president to lead us who doesn't even have the stones to admit when he's blown it and instead continues to pour gasoline on a fire that surely could have died down some by now, had he just tempered his rhetoric a bit... Yipes. The sun is out. It's about 70 degrees and both tires in my bicycle have plenty of air. I think a ride is called for... Be good to everyone. (The title I used today is from a song called "Dear Prudence." - From the Beatles White Album if I remember correctly... The tune sometimes hits my brain on mornings like this, though I haven't listened to it in I don't know how long.) |
| Andi... |
| 07.08.05 (6:30 pm) [edit] |
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Hello Boys and Girls, surrogate here. Just now my daughter was asleep on the couch. She's 24 and quite special. I bent over and kissed her cheek and not five seconds later my stomach was in my throat as memories flooded through me: The moment she was born that I was allowed to witness and be part of - a change in policy from just two years earlier, when Fathers still weren't allowed in for C-Sections.. The day we brought her home and we took one of my favorite photographs of her older brother and her lying in our water-bed, he as proud as any two-year old has ever been, gently cradling her tiny head... Her in a red Christmas dress at three or four bashfully spinning; modeling for me, her long wavy still blond hair flowing with the dress as she turned... Her in uniform, baton twirling in our town's Memorial Day Parade at seven or eight, waving as she marched by... Her absolutely cool Penguin Halloween costume... Her birthday party when the kids tried to keep helium Balloons from hitting the ceiling or the floor by fastening just the right number of paperclips to the strings... The scary prospect of her adolescence coming too soon for me to accept it gracefully, or handle very well... Slapping her (a shameful memory), when she swore at my wife during an argument early in her teens... Disapproving, too quickly, of some of her friends and boyfriends... Teaching her to drive... The utter panic I felt when she called me to tell me she'd been in an accident. It left her car totaled, but her unmarked; a miracle I'm still thankful for daily... The divorce straining hers and my relationship too - almost to the breaking point... Watching her become a beautiful and caring woman... Kissing her on the cheek tonight as she napped, and being prayerfully thankful for the gift of loving her. Be good to everyone. |
| Another one.... |
| 07.07.05 (5:34 pm) [edit] |
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Hi Boys and Girls, Jesus reporting on a lousy day. I had planned on teasing surrogate today. No such luck. This London thing is awful, and I fear it won't be the last attack - or anywhere near the last. There are some frustrated people doing some evil things and no amount of military force will ever stop it. Know that. Accept it. I'm playing devils advocate here for a minute, and I'm doing it just to make a point. Please don't misunderstand what I'm about to say as any sort of approval on my part for this evil deed this morning in London, but only fools ignore WHY people would stoop to killing innocents, and I'm no fool, so we're going to look at it for a minute. So for a moment, let's try to figure out what CAN be done to end all this violence. First of all, a Priest friend of surrogate and mine used to say that unless you have reason not to believe someone, it's always wise to assume that people are telling you the truth when they tell you something; if for no other reason than to have a hope of learning from them. Let's also remember that people who are proud of what they've done, even bad people who have done bad things, have little reason to lie about their deeds, and the rationale they used to justify committing them. So, keep these things in mind, please, as you read on. It's a horrible thing when people resort to such tactics such as were used today in London, though I suppose when you're fighting an enemy that has every advantage over you equipment-wise and munition-wise, and you too, like your enemies, consider it a war - which these people do - they're going to use whatever means they can to impact as many people as they can. Hence, the use of terror as a tactic. Now Osama Bin Laden spelled out his reasons for the 9-11 attack pretty clearly. I personally have no reason to think he was lying about them since he was proud of his "accomplishment." I'm pretty sure that until THEIR reasons are at least addressed, his people are never going to quit looking for opportunities to inflict harm on those they consider their enemies. Just understand it. You cannot wipe out terrorism by fighting wars... You can't fight terrorism by rounding up the "known suspects"... In fact, you can't fight terrorism at all! It's like saying "we're going to fight clever ideas!" The minute you kill ten terrorists, or put them in jail, or torture them, you create new enemies who look up to, or respect, or love those people, who will now gladly take their place. If you want to wipe out most terrorism, at least by the current bunch, go to the trouble of learning why they're so all fired upset and do your best to objectively address those issues - Karl Rove's jibes notwithstanding. (And for goodness sakes, never assign YOUR reasons to someone else's actions. That is plain idiotic. - e.g. "They hate us for our freedom.") Here's the deal: You figure out how to treat the rest of the world with delicacy and respect, and the only terrorism you'll have to worry about in the west, are those acts committed by random crazies, of which there will always be a few. That's it. Period. You need me to take your through all the events? What would be the point. Those who are willing to understand it - will, and those who don't want to - wont. I'm telling you people, this is the ONLY way. Love each other. Love Dad. And, love your enemies. Be good to each other, and don't worry about the dead. Keep the injured in your thoughts and prayers, along with the survivors. Contact me at justplainoldjesus@gmail.com |
| Howdy and Hey There |
| 07.05.05 (10:19 pm) [edit] |
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Good night, Boys and Girls! Nice fourth weekend for me, hope everyone out there in blogland had a good one. I'll be around but won't be posting much the next few days. Got a call from Jesus (about time!) who read me the riot act over the tone of my last couple of posts and wants some "post time" himself to say his piece, or "peace," if I know him. So, if he gets around to it, and he's near a 'puter, maybe he'll put in his two cents tomorrow or Thursday - but I'll bet he has to call me back for the password! He forgets it all the time and since he refuses to carry a wallet, he has nowhere to keep it. Believe me; he won't bother cluttering up his mind with something as unimportant as a blog password. (For a while I was going to use his birthday or something I thought for sure he'd remember, but then EVERYONE would be able to figure it out...) I had the privilege of meeting one of tblog's best writers and friendliest people over the weekend. I only wish I'd been able to spend more time yapping. There's always next time! So then... enjoy the week and I'll be back to writing my usual tripe by Friday or Saturday. Be good to everyone! |
| Crossroads |
| 07.02.05 (7:03 am) [edit] |
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Good morning Boys and Girls, July. On Monday here in the U.S. we celebrate the 229th year of our wild experiment in representative democracy. We've done amazing things in this country over the past two and a third centuries, much of which we should be very proud of. First and foremost, I think what I'm personally proudest of, is that for the bulk of the time we've been a country, we've been looked upon as an absolutely incredible to place to come to and start new lives for anyone who needed a new start; and millions upon millions of people have done just that; come here, started families and prospered due to hard work, the richness of the land, the growing population who needed the goods and services provided by all the new inhabitants, and a government who was made up of... us! And it is still an incredible country and hopefully will be for many generations to come. But, good people, we are at a crossroads. Never before in our history have we stepped so close to the edge of the shelf of freedom we cherish so much. Never before have we allowed such a small group of people of means and wacky ideology to get their combined weight on the end of the lever to push us all over the edge of that wonderfully stable, if bumpy, shelf - over the side of which lies a land that very few of us want this country to slide into. And the fulcrum they intend to use to put incredible muscle into their efforts is the Supreme Court. With the retirement of Miss Sandra, the opportunity that Bush and his backers have been impatiently wringing their hands about for quite a long time has presented itself - a hot cookie on a tray - and it's almost a forgone conclusion that they'll gleefully take it unless we forcefully slap their hands away. And we must. I'm so tired of people telling me about how Christianity is under attack in this country. I've never seen a single instance EVER where people are being told they can't practice their religion any way they choose - except when they try to force others to believe as they do. If these people are against abortion rights for women, they have every right to (a) not get them, (b) encourage other people not to get them, and (c) buy all the mean billboards telling us all how they feel about the practice - though God knows that sort of stuff is evil since it's intended to make people feel bad about themselves at a time when they have a hell of a lot of other things to worry about. What they don't have, and what they can NEVER have, is the right to force (and in the end, enforce) their religious beliefs by means of laws against a woman's right to choose. I don't give a rat's ass if they consider it murder, let them IN THEIR LIVES, act as if it is. We cannot allow "them" to make decisions for everyone because of screwed up interpretations of bad translations of an ancient story book. And that decision, Roe v. Wade, is the one, that George W. Bush, is counting on his next nominee to the Supreme Court to help overturn. I don't care if you're "Pro-Abortion," "Pro-Life," "Pro-Choice," or "Pro-Let's-Pick-Up-Some-P oisonous-Snakes-To-Prove- We're-Worthy-Souls." If you can't see the difference between believing something with all your heart and acting on those beliefs within the confines of your own private life, and passing laws to make other people live as "you" think they should, is not only silly, but dangerous. And having said that? Be good to everyone! |
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